Slay His Life

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Both Harry and I are too tired to continue much a conversation after we generally settle things between us, so we both go back to bed wordlessly, but this time, Harry returns to the guest bedroom. I think he could sense my apprehension when I saw him walking towards my bed, so he decided just to give me some space and let me sleep alone. I'm thankful he did that; I honestly don't think I could sleep if he were behind me. I love sleeping in the same bed as Harry, but I kind of think that the existing tension between us right now might just keep me on edge all night, and I really don't want to have to deal with that.

Though the present conflict has been somewhat resolved, I find that my evening is spent restlessly staring at the ceiling for far too long. It's stupid, really. When I was talking with Harry about his formal and all that other shit, I was literally about to fall asleep on him towards the end, despite the anger I was feeling. But now that I'm actually in bed again, I can't sleep. I'm too worried about what Harry is hiding from me to sleep, and I'm kind of pissed about it. I hate that he is causing me so much unrest, because it genuinely isn't fair. He's probably sleeping just fine with the ignorant belief that he tamed my crazy and settled his own problems.

Well, to that, I say a big fuck you, Harry... No, I don't, actually. He was kind of sweet tonight, and I shouldn't forget that. Though his idea of me a some helpless child is somewhat offensive, I know that he doesn't mean it to be offensive and that this is just his way of trying to show me he cares. I get that, and I shouldn't hold it against him however much I may want to.

See, that's very rational thinking, right?

However, with that being said, Harry really needs to realize that I'm not someone he should feel obligated to protect all the time. I am his equal and he should see me as one.

The next morning, Harry and I tread lightly around each other. He seems to not want to upset me, and I frankly can't find the maturity to act like a normal human. Part of it is exhaustion, but part of it is the simple fact that I'm currently working through these trust issues.

My parents don't seem to notice though. Harry and my dad get along so famously that my weird behavior isn't really noticed. I mean, my mom probably notices because moms notice everything, but she doesn't say anything about it.

Harry leaves shortly after breakfast, thanking both my my parents and then turning to me as they leave us alone outside to say our goodbyes.

Harry looks at me cautiously, taking his bottom lip between his teeth before forcing his tired eyes to meet mine, "Are we okay?"

I think for a moment before replying, deciding not to cause a thing right before he leaves to go spend the day with his parents, "yeah."

It'd be better if you weren't so damn secretive.

That's the problem with these mysterious boys: they're mysterious because the fucking hide everything. It's intrigung at first, but eventually, being straightforward is much more attractive than any mystery ever could be. The stress really just isn't worth it; trust me.

Harry frowns, unconvinced by my lack of enthusiasm, "Are you sure?"

I sigh and manage to keep myself from rolling my eyes, "Yes, I'm sure. Don't press it."

Harry huffs in frustration, but concedes to my wishes, "Okay, well.. thank you for letting me come here. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," I mumble, crossing my arms and fixing my eyes on the concrete.

A silence falls over us for several moments before Harry clears his throat and speaks again, "I– I'll just be going then. I, um, I'll see you on Monday."

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